Sticks and Stones
by historylover
Summary: Repost of my tag about "Sex and Violence."


A/N: Repost of my one-shot of "Sex and Violence," since I'm up to that in my season 4 marathon. This will definitely be the last thing I'll post before the season premiere.

Disclaimer: Consider this properly disclaimed. Not mine. And remember the Mystery Science Theater 3000 motto if you want to get upset about it. (Also, I'm finally looking forward to season 5. The spoilers are starting to kind of fit together now.)

**Sticks and Stones**

"Dean, look, you know I didn't mean the things I said back there, right? That was just the siren's spell talking?" Sam asked.

So many thoughts ran through Dean's head at that moment. He knew that wasn't true. Because he knew he did mean the things he said to Sam. He couldn't say what he wanted to now, though. Those inhibitions were gone, and his feelings needed to be bottled up again. "Of course. Me too," he said awkwardly, hoping that they can move past this. Together. As brothers.

Dean missed Sam, even though they were standing next to each other. From Dean's point of view, though, they might as well be standing shores with the Pacific Ocean between them.

He didn't know how to swim across that divide.

"OK, so—so we're good?" Sam sounded so hopeful that it was more painful than one of Sam's right hooks.

Dean didn't know what to say, so he fell on the standby answer, "Yeah, we're good."

As he walked around the car to the driver's side, Dean caught a glimpse at Sam's look. It was obvious that Sam believed the words as much as Dean did.

They slid in the car together. Off to another job. Another town. Another screwed-up situation.

Dean noticed that their timing was off. They didn't shut their doors in synch. It wasn't anything big. They didn't often shut the doors together, but this just felt off.

Probably his imagination.

"_Because you're too weak" _Sam's words ran through his mind again. It seemed to be on a loop. _" You're holding me back. I'm a better hunter than you are—stronger, smarter. I can take out demons you're too scared to go near."_

_Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me. _Dean wondered who the asshole was who came up with that idea. He wanted to find this idiot and kick his ass. Hunt him down. Beat him to death with the sticks and stones he loved so much.

"_Sure, Dean, let's trade stories. You first. How was Hell? Don't spare the details. You're too busy sitting around feeling sorry for yourself. Whining about all the souls you tortured in Hell. Boo-hoo."_

He knew that it was a mistake to tell Sam about his time in Hell. He hoped… he wasn't sure what he was hoping for. Forgiveness? Mercy? Understanding? Peace? Comfort? Help? The confessions didn't help him, and he knew that they didn't help Sam. It was a mistake. He signed his contract. What happened in Hell was all on him.

He just didn't want Sam to end up there. Knowing Castiel and Uriel, Sam probably already had one foot in Hell already. And Ruby was standing ready to push Sam in.

It wasn't that Sam and Ruby were making plans to go after Lilith. Dean knew it wouldn't do any good. In fact, it would just probably piss her off.

He had hoped that he could be there to catch Sam if he fell. Like he always had. Well, until almost a year ago. He wasn't there to catch Sam as he started falling.

He was grateful to Ruby for saving Sam's life. But, it was the fact that they didn't trust him enough to tell him they wanted to go after Lilith that pissed Dean off.

Dean knew Sam wanted Lilith's head on a platter. He wanted to see Lilith dead too. He didn't want to leave his dying in the hands of a demon. He had been there, done that, and all he had to show for it was enough pain and guilt to fill that damn ocean that was between Sam and Dean now.

"_If I didn't know you, I'd want to hunt you." _His own words came flooding back to him, mixing in with the eternal, infernal loop that Sam's words were on.

Maybe he couldn't blame Sam for not wanting to tell Dean about his powers. Even though before that, Sam swore he wasn't using his powers. Even going as far as making it Dean's "dying wish." Dean was glad to know that his wishes still didn't matter. It fit. If his wishes ever mattered, he probably wouldn't know how to handle it.

"_What don't I know about that kid?"_ Another round of Dean's words came back to him. Maybe the better question was "What do I know about him?" The answer, obviously, was nothing.

He never thought Sam would have fallen so much.

He had no idea when he started looking at Sam and seeing a stranger. That part was true. Dean knew when he said that, that was him saying it. He didn't need a spell to think that. It came from deep inside him. It had been for a while now.

Sam wasn't the same. Even something as simple as now being the love 'em and leave 'em type. Dean wasn't sure if the memory of the brother he desperately hung onto while he was in Hell was ever real. The only thing he knew now was that the Sam he thought existed no longer did.

_I am holding you back. I am scared. Terrified. Scared of you. Scared of myself. Scared of what we're becoming. But, I can never tell you these feelings. You'll pretend to listen, and then find a way to use my feelings against me._

"_I'm a better hunter than you are—stronger, smarter." _Dean suspected even before he went to Hell that Sam thought he was better than Dean. Dean knew he was. Sam was better. He was smarter, taller, bigger. Certainly smarter.

The only way he would matter at all is if he allowed himself not to feel anything again. Maybe he could start healing.

And without Sam's help this time.

Dean sighed, feeling Sam's eyes avoiding him. Nothing made sense anymore. When he was younger, everything was black and white, right and wrong, good and evil. Now, everything was chaotic. Angels existed, but they're dicks. Ghosts can be good. Humans were worse monsters than some things they set out to hunt.

_Maybe I came back wrong. That's got to be the answer. Castiel made a mistake. He's an angel, not God. What's dead should stay dead. I made a mistake by making the deal to bring Sam back, and he was dead for only a couple days. He wasn't in Hell. What kind of monster am I?_

Nothing made sense anymore.

He knew he couldn't stop Sam from doing anything with his powers, but he would still try. He promised that. He would stand in the way of Sam and Hell.

He had been to Hell. He'd be damned if he saw Sam go there.

Even if he destroyed their relationship completely.

"Dean? Do you feel like talking any more?" Sam asked, bringing Dean out of his thoughts.

"I don't think we have anything we need to talk about," Dean answered. "We're OK. You're right. We were under the siren's spell. Good thing we have Bobby on our side, huh?"

"No kidding."

They both feel silent again.

Dean flipped on the radio to keep from thinking.

Fin

A/N: I don't know how much I'll be writing in season 5, although I'm now looking over to it (the spoilers haven't impressed me too much, but the clips of the premiere I've seen has made me happy.) However, if inspiration strikes, I may write. For those of you who have reviewed, thank you so much! I really appreciate the reviews! However, most of you are reading—and favoriting a lot of times—but not taking time to review. Reviews keep writers happy. They keep plot bunnies fed. Reviews are our only payment.

But, we'll see how it goes. I'm not saying I won't write, but I'm also not promising I will.


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